Summer's Ending
by mythweaver1
Summary: FFIV. The day was perfect in every measure except that it marked the parting of their ways. WARNING: Character death.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Oh hai—uber depressing fic!

This is another hold-over before chapter ten of WoTC is posted (which, btw, will be early next week for those who don't check my profile).

There may be a few more installments to THIS fic, but we'll see ;)

Epitaph

The day was perfect in every measure except that it marked the parting of their ways. The sun felt cold even though the air buzzed with the excitement of summer. All of it was a dull roar to Edge's senses—he knew nothing but loss.

He would never be able to fully explain what it was that _had _changed; an aspect of the breeze, maybe, or a shift in how the shadows fell across their room. He listened to the birds beyond the glazed windows and heard a mournful dirge being sung. What he knew for certain was that he had lost his beloved and nothing—nothing—would ever be the same again.

Her funeral was small, intimate. Everything was done to her wishes, and yet none of it felt proper enough for a queen. Their children were there; their closest friends and aides, but there were no droves of admirers, no crowds of weeping women and children. There would be no parades or feasts for the passing of the Queen of Eblan, only the quiet vigil of those she'd held dear.

He admitted, as they lowered her into her grave, that this was as he too had wanted—her long sleep undisturbed.

"Sleep well," he whispered to the wind, hoping the words would reach her. "I'll follow you soon enough."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I wrote several of these snippets and am posting them as I get them finished.

The Solitary Path

He would spend months speaking to phantom versions of her, creations of his mind meant to keep her alive and real. He refused to let go of her. In his mind she remained young and vibrant. Her hair had not faded to silver green and her smile wasn't careworn with age.

She was timeless—exotic as she'd always been—and he wished she could hear him as he spoke aloud during his walk around their garden.

He told her about their children; about their friends, and about their favorite haunts. He spoke as if she could hear him, not caring that she couldn't. He skirted the large rock by the pond where she often sat to think and gazed at it.

She used to say she could see him coming from any direction upon that perch, and he always did enjoy rising to the challenge.

He'd never forget the day he'd startled her so badly, she tumbled into the pond below and emerged with weeds in her hair. The pure outrage on her face had matched the spell she'd cast, and the both of them ended that day soaking wet but laughing.

He smiled, the wrinkles around his lips deepening.

He could almost swear he still saw her sitting in the water, arms crossed, and the glint in her eyes that spelled trouble. He would never release those memories. He would never let her disappear.

He refused to be alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Many Meetings. Many Partings.

The yellowed grasses whipped to and fro in the brisk breeze. His sable cloak whipped with them.

The tower loomed in the distance, the great spire that had cast a shadow over their lives for so many years.

He'd met her there, at the footsteps of that tower, when he was nothing but a rash young man and she the beauty with a powerful gift.

They had fought, mostly with each other, and in the end won both a war and each other. Theirs was a long partnership filled with pain but also joy. Many long years of toiling, of rebuilding, raising children, celebrating marriages, honoring lives lost…

And all of it had begun with that tower. If it hadn't been for the war and all its losses, he wouldn't have gained everything in return.

He looked back at the castle behind him. His aides were waiting for him to return, knowing he had gone to lose himself in his thoughts. They were pressing him more and more these days—perhaps knowing something he didn't. Even their children had become unusually solicitous. They spoke extra loudly, repeated conversations unnecessarily, and fussed over him in general.

How he wished for simplicity. Why did one have to fret so much over their own death? Let him slip away without the fuss, without the stress. No leaving of possessions, dividing of territories, or elaborate speeches. All he wished for was peace and quiet to remember her and to wonder how sweet their reunion would be.

He closed his eyes and imagined she was standing beside him, slender arm pointed skyward. She shared his thoughts, his memories—living in a time long past. But when he re-opened his eyes, all he could see was the breeze.


	4. Chapter 4

**Dusk**

He hadn't visited for years. Yet when he approached the polished white stone, he found her grave tended and well-cared for.

The afternoon sun speckled the red and orange leaves with gold. The shifting light spilled over Edge's wrinkled hands. He remembered a time when his skin wasn't dotted with age and his veins didn't bulge as if restrained only by fragile parchment.

Mist was just as it had been since its rebuilding. It was quiet, serene, and the rustle of leaves from the valley winds sounded like a whisper. He knelt beside the marker, feeling the warmth of the stone. His eyes were failing him but he knew every etch and crevice. This was where she slept, beneath the shade of the rowan tree.

"Not long now," he told her gently, feeling the weight on his heart grow. The winter of his life was upon him and he felt it keenly, knew it was ever so close.

This was where she had chosen to be laid to rest, among the bones of her people. It pained Edge to know that he would not be joining her here, their bodies side by side, together in death. And that was why he had come, to see this place for the last time—to say his goodbyes.

Memories of their life together flashed through his mind and left a sibilant ringing in his ears. Every kiss, every embrace; all of their laughter, all of their tears; the first steps of their children; the friends, and all the years…they were like a warm blanket that brought peace to his soul.

"This is it, then," he murmured, smiling, his eyes closing drowsily.

He leaned against the tree beside the grave, at ease with a life fully lived. The cares he had melted away and became nothing. He felt as light as a leaf on the wind…

The sound of birds became a distant background, the world around him fading to memory.

"So you've come," came a whisper in his ear.

He opened his eyes and saw her there, slender hand on his jaw, blue eyes sparkling. She was young and vibrant, no creases around her eyes. There was joy on her lips as she gently leaned forward to kiss his forehead. The world he'd left behind had dulled to gray, but she remained a bright vision before him.

"Sorry to make you wait," he answered, embracing her in kind. The feel of her in his arms was solid and real, and all that he remembered.

She smiled, and it filled him with warmth. "Not at all," she assured him with a kiss, lingering on his lips as if to savor the moment.

She was pulling him away, away from the world. It was like being caught in a tide and drifting farther out to sea. He was unfettered, free, and eager to be swept away…

And then he was gone like a sigh, long-held, released….

Those who found the king of Eblan beside the rowan tree would never forget. The smile of contentment on his lips—the peace of his long sleep.

Some wondered at his passing, at the tree that became the marker of his exit from the world. It became a story long told in Mist that his spirit had become the heart of that tree. It stood beside her grave for years beyond years, never diminishing, and though the two were never laid side by side, it seemed to the village, that the tree had been changed that day. For at a very particular time of the year, the leaves would not greet the light in customary tones of reds and golds, but in the richness of silver. They would flicker like diamonds in the midday sun and the sound of the wind as it danced through the branches was that of warm laughter, like the memory of their lives calling to those left behind.

One could close their eyes and imagine they saw the two, reunited at last, smiling beneath the boughs and caught an in endless embrace...

…Two spirits entwined.

Fin

A/N:

Inspiration for this piece…I was watching the movie UP back in…November, I believe, and it got me thinking of doing a fic that was reminiscent of the first scenes of the movie (which make me cry EVERY TIME). Thus…this piece.

In the last chapter, anyone who catches the Serenity reference gets kudos from me :)


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